White Trees Grow In Mordor
by Gregsonator
Summary: Captured and imprisoned by the enemy, Eadrith finds herself drawn to the Overlord of Lithlad's fortress, a blood thirsty Uruk named Auzzarg. Forced to stay by his side for her safety she must survive, but the real question is, can Auzzarg survive himself around such an intriguing Gondorian Lady.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter one**

Eadrith stood tall and proud as they marched her back to the prison cells. The occasional push nocked her off balance, but she righted herself just as quick. Her father had always told her to stand strong in the face of adversity, even if there was nothing else, she could do. Her predicament was a unique one; she had travelled with with her father and older brother, both commanders sent to aid Minas Ithil's fight against the uruk invasion. Eadrith and her mother accompanied them, common practice despite being a stupid idea. They were noble women, not soldiers, and should be sent to the front lines just to keep the men in their family happy.

The Uruk escorting her gave her a hard push into one of the mass prison cells; big iron bars with a strong oak frame packed to burst with terrified Gondorians from the fallen Minas Ithil. Uruk jeered and leered at the humans in the cage; Tarks, they called them, occasionally stabbing or scratching them through the bars for fun. They were diabolical creatures. Eadrith stayed at the front of the cage, hands on the bars as she peered out to watch for another chance for escape. The cage wasn't built to keep humans inside, but for Caragors; big cat like monsters the Uruk's rode. A human could easily climb through the gaps, but that was met with a certain and painful death.

Except for Eadrith, who had escaped twice and almost made it out of the camp. The last time she got so close and was almost home free, but some Uruks returning from a hunt caught her on the way and brought her back. She surmised it was because she was female, but the Uruks had not touched her when returning her. They had leered and drooled, some explaining all the horrible ways they'd "pleasure themselves" with her; usually ending with decapitation, but she had not been groped yet. She had concluded that she, and other women, were going to be bartering chips. The armies of Mordor had a few human allies and what better way to barter with them then gifts of fine women. Or perhaps she was a hostage, more likely to garner a reaction from Gondor when they saw a pretty neck was on the line.

"You fool, quit trying to escape or you'll get us all killed." One man said, a solider from Minas Ithil. He was young and scared, badly bruised both inside and out. Eadrith had bruises too and she had seen horrific things, she had no sympathy for him.

"I will not stand by and wait to be tortured or killed." She snapped, maybe a little too harshly. "I will try and try and try again until I either succeed or die." She returned to plotting her third escape while the soldier cursed her under his breath.

Eadrith scanned the Uruk camp. There were two archers that could see her from their position, but their patrol leads them into a blind spot. There were still plenty of Uruks on the ground though, and she was being watched by them all. She needed a distraction so she could make a dash for the ruins the Uruks were using as a barracks. Maybe she could steal a weapon from there too. She had no idea how to use a sword but sticking the sharp end in a gullet seemed like a good start.

Eadrith waited patiently for two days. The distraction she had hoped for arrived when she was weak, hungry and struggling to stay awake. It came in the form of the arrival of a Overlord; a high-ranking commander in the army of Mordor. Auzzarg the Cursed was his name, and the Uruks spoke it with hesitation, as if uttering it would summon him. Apparently, he was the most feared Overlord in the whole of Sauron's army, almost up there with the Nazgul in ferocity and power. Eadrith didn't fancy sticking around to meet him since the arrival of such a commander would mean new orders for the Uruks, including orders for what is to be done about the human prisoners. Before his arrival, the Captain of the camp summoned most of his Uruks to the courtyard, leaving a few scattered about equipped with horns to blow if anything occurred. As weak as Eadrith was it was now or never.

She crawled through the second lowest gap in the bars and scurried across as fast as she could, scanning left and right for Uruks. They hadn't noticed her. No one else followed her, which was good because they'd probably be her downfall. She made into the bushes and lead on the ground against the wall. She stayed still, making sure no horn followed. Her once white dress was caked in dirt and dust and torn up the side from her last re-capture. It made it easier to crawl though, so she had to thank the Uruk who'd torn it. Crawling so not to rustle the grass too much she slowly made her way around the wall towards the barracks. Some of the prisoners watched her curiously. She prayed that didn't make the guards suspicious. Once she was around the corner and there were no Uruks in sight she made a be-line for the barracks and snuck inside. As she'd expected it was empty, all night shift guards in the courtyard. Eadrith stood and hurried over to the weapon stand. The Uruks had all manner of weapons; spears, swords, jagged maces, giant hammers and impenetrable shields. She took a small sword. Or was it a large knife? As well as a small dagger she hooked into her underwear. It wasn't very lady like, but it would do.

Knife in hand she crept out of the back of the barracks and around a corner. She could see the open entrance to the camp, exposed with only one guard stood in the middle. He looked board and that meant he wasn't paying attention, but there was no way around him, and the camp was guarded on both sides by high cliff faces. He'd see her regardless of how stealthy she was. She'd have to kill him. Eadrith had never killed anyone before, but an Uruk might as well be her first.

She very quietly crept up behind him, careful to avoid knocking a stone or stepping on a dry twig. Once behind him she was reminded of how big and strong these creatures were. They stood as tall as the tallest of men, some even taller, with dark skin of green, grey, brown, black and yellow. Their armour looked crass, no Sigel or fine design, but a hunk of metal protecting vital organs did its job just the same. This Uruk had no helmet on however, so that would be Eadrith's mark. She took a deep but silent breath and then swung her arm up, the knife closed in her fist, jamming it into the side of the Uruk's head. The Uruk made a pained grunt and black blood spurted from the wound. Eadrith quickly pulled the knife out and fell backwards as the Uruk fell to the side with a heavy clunk of metal. Eadrith was stunned for a moment. She had done that. She had killed that Uruk. She, a powerless Gondorian noble woman supposed to be a pretty sight for soldiers could bring down one of the monsters that had taken Minas Ithil. She felt good. She felt powerful. Yet, her hands were still shaking, and her legs refused to move.

"Stand you cursed girl." She hissed to herself, willing her limbs to do as ordered. "You can panic later, just get out of here." She stood, and with heavy legs began to run. She was through the gates and into the narrow path. Just a bit further and she'd be free. Where she'd go she had no idea but anywhere was better than an Uruk's prisoner. Then, she heard the dreaded sound of an alarm horn ring and glanced over her shoulder to see the Uruk she'd slain blowing it. How was he not dead? Did they not have brains in their ugly heads. She continued to run as Uruks began to appear from every crevis in the camp, swarming like rats. They shouted and cursed in a way that she had not heard before. They were genuinely angry she'd escaped, not amused or excited because they got to play hunter with a pretty human girl. They were going to kill her, no doubt about it. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, but they were weak from starvation.

"Come on, just a bit further." She begged, to whom she did not care. She reached the end of the narrow passage the Uruk's were struggling to catch her since the narrow path meant they could only charge two or three abreast and they clambered over each other to be the one to catch her. She glanced back to see them stumbling and falling behind, and a cocky grin slid across her face. She was free thanks to their incompetence. Their Overlord would butcher them all for this.

Then, a thud. She collided with something big and steadfast because she'd been too busy smirking at her triumph to look where she was going. She fell backwards and looked up to see a shirtless and armour-less Uruk towering over her, looking just as surprised as she. Without thinking, Eadrith leaped to her feet and swung the knife at him. It was just one Uruk. She could do this. He caught her arm and squeezed just enough to make her drop the knife. He held her arm up so she was almost dandling by it. Not ready to give up just yet, Eadrith, almost on instinct, grabbed the knife from the hem of her underwear and shoved it forward with her free hand. She pierced the Uruk's stomach with the tiny blade and black blood dribbled out from the exposed flesh.

The Uruk did not flinch, in fact, he looked quite amused. He yanked Eadrith's arm to the side, so she staggered and then swung her around, so her arms were behind her back where he held them together with a single hand.

"Nice try sweetheart." The Uruk said with a calm, deep voice scraping over gravel. "But it takes a bit more than that to climb the ranks." Eadrith didn't understand what he was talking about, she could only scowl at herself for failing yet again. Now what was to happen to her.

The Uruk did not let go of her for the entire walk back to the camp, a long walk that felt shameful. He didn't tie her with rope, probably a precaution in case she tried to escape again. Eadrith felt humiliated as she walked past the other prisoners who all seemed to have an '_I told you so_' expression. They probably didn't and Eadrith wasn't really looking anywhere else but the ground, but she still felt it. She was marched passed all the cages however, and into the courtyard where the Uruks were slowly filtering back in. The Captain stood looking annoyed on the raised stage where he usually stood for announcements or commands, also an execution stage. Many an Uruk had died there for trying to defeat the Captain and take his place. That was how their military system worked. The Captain himself was the second Captain for that camp, having killed his predecessor. The concept of loyalty seemed lost on these creatures.

Eadrith was marched up onto the stage. Was she going to be executed? Tortured? Her knees began to wobble and sweat started dripping. She wasn't ready to die. Standing tall in the face of adversity seemed like such a far-fetched idea at that point. Still, she tried to hold her head up high, all be it with a quivering lip.

"You again!" The Captain snapped. "This is the last time you'll escape you stupid little sow." The Captain was a weak Uruk. Crafty and devious, but in a one on one fight he was useless. He was scrawny and a sickly green with white smudges of paint across him. He had a patch of infected looking boils on the side of his head and down his neck and shoulder. Probably why no one could get close enough to kill him yet.

"Cut off her arms and legs. A toy is still a toy even if it can't run." He chortled with a horrific glee. Before Eadrith's panic could truly set in the Uruk who had captured her said a quick and flat _'no'_. He handed Eadrith to another Uruk; who held her with two hands, and stepped towards the Captain. Eadrith got a better look at him now. He was taller than the average Uruk but not the tallest she'd seen. His skin was a dusky brown and he had black tattoos across his whole body and down his arms, as well as all over his back. A back covered in horrific looking scars that healed badly. He was very broad shouldered with very defined muscles. His black hair was shaved on the sides and ran down the back of his head to his neck and he had a goatee on his chin. He wore a simple pair of ranger's pants with Eadrith's stolen sword on the belt. His face was still urukish with a flat hooked nose and animal like teeth, a slight underbite too. His eyes were a yellowish brown and his brow seemed permanently furrowed.

"No?" The Captain squealed, insulted to his very core. "Who dares challenge my authority? I'll have your head!" He raised his crossbow to fire a poisoned bolt. The dusky uruk didn't even flinch and when the crossbow bolt came flying towards him, he raised the knife and deflected it with a single movement. He didn't attack the captain, just stood there looking at him with apathy.

"Kill him." He said calmly, and a arrow seemingly flew out of nowhere and pierced the Captain in the neck. He fell deftly and panicked Uruks looked around for the archer. The dusky Uruk sighed and stepped forward to address them.

"Don't panic, you'll have a new Captain. One of my choosing preferably." The Uruk said casually and nodded slightly to some uruks standing off to the side that Eadrith hadn't seen in the camp before. Their armour was better than the other uruks, and their weapons were better too. One of them was carrying a chest plate and pauldrons, another carrying gauntlets. One carried a large mace and the last carried a large shield with a huge crack in it. They stepped up onto the stage and over to the uruk, raising the armour up and lowering it over him. The armour was scuffed and stained but still strong, and the pauldrons were drake skulls. Once the armour was on Eadrith realised who he was. This was the Overlord they had been expecting. This was Auzzarg the Cursed… And she'd stabbed him in the stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The prisoners were shipped off to the mines to dig for ore to arm and equip the uruk army of Mordor. Eadrith on the other hand was not. She led strewn across the back of a caragor for the best part of a five-hour trek back to the Tower. The Tower was a fortress guarded by hundreds of uruks on high stone walls. It was where the Overlord lived, where he was taking her. Why her she did not know. Maybe for special punishment for injuring him. Maybe for other reasons. When they arrived outside the fortress walls, Auzzarg lifted Eadrith by her bonds off the back of the caragor and stood her on her feet, her hands still tied, and mouth stilled gaged. He then, with one hand, untied her bonds and gag. Eadrith didn't dare run. Auzzarg was accompanied by a few spear throwers who were exemplary at what they did. On the journey they'd speared a groug; a massive hulking monster of a thing, to the ground like it was nothing. Auzzarg hadn't even flinched at the sight of it. Again, he seemed rather apathetic.

Eadrith stood with her arms by her side, chin up in defiance. This seemed to make Auzzarg smirk for a second and then he patted the back of the caragor with his hand.

"Hop on, and don't even think about trying anything funny. You will die otherwise." He commanded calmly. Eadrith was a bit confused but did as instructed and tentatively climbed on the back of the caragor. Her dress ripped some more on the other side. Modesty was not option anymore it seemed. Caragors were big but not really build for two. She slid into the back of Auzzarg and tried to hold herself at arm's length.

"You should hold on." He suggested, but it was just that. The gates opened and they began to move. Caragor did not move like horses where you bounced lightly up and down, their hips moved from side to side and Eadrith almost fell off. She found herself with her arms around Auzzarg's waist, just as he'd suggested. She felt disgusting being so close to an uruk but she didn't want to fall off since the fortress entrance was lined with hundreds of uruks cheering for their Overlord's return.

They strode through the fortress grounds up to the tower, hundreds of uruks cheering and waving their weapons in triumph. A few cheered with severed heads on spikes; human, uruk, and even dwarven heads. They cheered like beasts with snarls and growls, grunts and roars. The Ologs were especially terrifying. Big, hulking troll like creatures, but with some semblance of a brain. Eadrith found herself holding on tightly. She didn't know why. Auzzarg was hardly safety, but he was yet to harm her.

They dismounted at the tower and went inside the great hall where a throne sat raised higher than the rest. Eadrith walked freely but was closely followed as they door closed behind them. The room was decorated with a mix of Gondorian art and severed heads and animal trophies, a few weapons still dripping with blood. The tower and the fortress were once Gondorian outposts, now Uruk strongholds.

"What do you want us to do with the Tark?" One of Auzzarg's troop asked, moving closer to Eadrith so she couldn't bolt. "The dungeon?"

"No. Take her to one of the tower rooms. Give her food and water, and see if you cant find some human clothes for her to wear." Auzzarg commanded, striding over to the throne and taking a seat. He slouched on the throne like someone bored of power and command.

"Boss? You want us to feed and dress her?" The troop member asked, sounding baffled and almost upset. Auzzarg looked him dead in the eye and pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He had a terrifying stare, narrowing eyes and a snarl forming on that apathetic face. He seemed to be boiling with rage but then it was gone in an instant. He sighed, leant back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Do you know who she is?" He asked, sounding exasperated but willing to explain. The troop member shook his head.

"Some tark sow?"

Auzzarg groaned as he lurched forward, handing his head down.

"No." He said calmly but on the verge of outburst by his tone. "Look at her skin, her hair, her clothes. Does your average tark have flawless ivory skin, golden hair, white lace dresses?"

"Err… no?"

"Exactly!" Auzzarg hissed, leaning back again and rubbing his face with a hand. He seemed to be holding back an outburst, which was strange since he'd been so composed the entire time Eadrith had been in his presence. She was beginning to feel a little less safe in his presence, despite his lack of hostility towards her. Seemed on edge, like a tightly wound coil on the verge of snapping; and snapping all the surrounding necks in the process.

"She is not a commoner but a noble, maybe even royalty. And pretty noble women make good bargaining chips." Auzzarg explained, running his tongue over his teeth. "Now be so kind as to take her to a tower room, feed and clothe her, and get back to your post before I rip your head off your shoulders and PISS DOWN YOUR NECK!" Auzzarg's roar was almost deafening, and Eadrith's steadfast demeanour was challenged. He really was the Overlord. Only a Overlord could be so vicious. Auzzarg dismissed them from the room and seemed to hang his head in despair, covering his face with his hand.

True to Auzzarg's command, Eadrith was fed; all be it stale bread and off meat, and given fresh water to drink, as well as an assortment of clothes provided to her. She dismissed the dresses, most of which were ripped deliberately short, and opted for a pair of trousers and a white tunic she tucked into the pants. It was more practical for an escape. She pulled the drawstrings of the tunic and tied them in a bow. It was a lot more comfortable than her dress, which came corseted to the shape of her body. It was cooler too, useful considering the hot weather of Lithad; the desert region of Mordor.

The tower room wasn't too terrible, better than a prison cell. It had an actual bed with dusty but unused sheets, a table and chair with an ink well, quill and a small pile of papers. There were a few random books strewn about, accidental possessions of the uruks she smised. The door was a thick wooden thing and bolted shut. She didn't know if there were guards outside or not. Eadrith moved the chair over the window and when she stood on it she was at the perfect height to climb out. However, once she looked down from the window, she felt the ground come rushing towards her and she fell backwards.

Landing with a thump, she found herself lying on her back staring up at the high ceiling, just a little dazed. She was so high up. Encouraging herself to not be weak, Eadrith hopped back onto the chair and looked out again, this time avoiding casting her eyes down. She could see the whole of Lithad from the window and beyond. The white mountains of Seregost, the green forests of Nurn, and even the edge of the black ashy land of Gorgoroth. It was remarkable, and quite breath taking, but there was no time to admire the landscape of Mordor; she had to figure out an escape plan.

Climbing down was not an option. She hopped off the chair and went over to the door to examine it. It was thick but left a gap of about an inch from the ground. Not enough to do much with, but it did mean she could hear what was happening outside the room with ease. If someone came to open the door, she'd be able to hear them coming, see their shadow cast under the door. Perhaps if she waited to the side, when the door opened, she'd be hidden. The uruk would walk into the room looking for her and she'd be able to jump him from behind, or perhaps just sneak out the door and lock him inside. Then there was the problem of getting out of the tower, it most likely had guards littering the place. She'd have to be sneaky, an easier task now she wasn't in a dress but still dangerous. She'd need a weapon too. If she killed the guard that came into the room, she could take his, prey it was something she could actually carry. The act of killing an uruk seemed to be troublesome too. The one at the camp had been stabbed in the head and lived. Did she need to cleave their heads off to finish them?

Scanning the room for a weapon, Eadrith decided the quill might work as a small dagger if she got it in the right spot. The eyes maybe. If not to kill, then to inconvenience. She decided she'd wait until the next meal came, quite soon looking at the setting sun over the western mountains. She sat in wait next to the door, quill in hand and ears alert to the slightest movement. A few guards walked past her door on their way up and down the stairs. Two stopped outside the door and she readied herself.

"Why'd the boss want this Tark sow alive anyway? He plannin' on keepin' it as a pet or some'in'." One uruk asked the other, sounding genuinely curious.

"Some'in' to bribe the Haradrim with I bet. A pretty toy for their boss I'm sure." The other suggested, sounding confident but it was clear he had no idea himself. Eadrith shuddered. The Haradrim were a southern race of men, sworn to Sauron, with brown skin, dark hair and eyes. They were glad in gold and red, and often decorated themselves with gold and bone. They were as vicious as uruks and behaved just as such. Eadrith had never seen on in person, only heard stories from soldiers who'd fought them. They allegedly road giant creatures into battle; Mumakil, hulking beasts with four legs, a large head with a tentacle like arm for a nose it could use to grab people and toss them, as well as huge tusks that scraped the ground as it walked.

"Why can't we ever have a pretty toy?" The first cursed. "I reckon a pretty tark sow would make me very happy."

"You wouldn't even know what to do with one if you got the chance." The second jeered, laughing as his friend growled.

"I know exactly what I'd do. I'd…"

"What are you two scum-hides doing?" A third uruk snapped, sounding older than the first two, or at least higher ranking. "The boss don't want no one near the Sow without his say so!" The two uruks marched off down the stairs and Eadrith held the quill firm. It was almost time.

The uruk unlatched the door and pushed it open. Eadrith waited as quietly as she could. It was dark in the tower, so the uruk walked into the room and looked around. Eadrith saw the tagger on his belt, something she could use, but the uruk carrying it was armoured and looked quite formidable. She decided trying to stab him with a quill would be a death sentence and darted out of the room, slamming the door shut and bolting it.

"Oi!" The uruk shouted, banging on the door shortly after. Eadrith ran down the stairs as fast as she could. She soon ran into the two uruks from before who had turned around upon hearing the shouting. The staircase was narrow so they didn't see her until she was right in front of them, and then they couldn't react fast enough as she jumped over them from a higher step.

Landing on stairs was not easy, but she grabbed a hold of a wall sconce to slow her decent and jolted to a stop. She fell onto the stairs but quickly got up and started running down again. The uruks behind her were yelling but they couldn't pursue her very fast since if they fell, they'd start tumbling down the stairs in a heap of armour and weapons, probably skewering themselves in the process.

Once Eadrith made it to the ground floor she was in the empty throne room and darted for the door, which was luckily open. She made a run for it, bolted out the door into the courtyard and froze.

She'd forgotten how many uruks were in the camp, and she didn't think they'd all be out at this time, but hundreds littered the courtyard, training, drinking, fighting with each other. They noticed her, a few drew their weapons. Eadrith quickly looked around for an opening. There was a patch of courtyard that was sparsely occupied, and an exit for the courtyard. If she made it into the fortress grounds, she'd be able to use the cover of fast approaching night and all the buildings to sneak out. They'd be looking for her though. Maybe she should just run for it.

Darting for the empty space with the uruks closing in she sprinted as fast as she could, her legs stronger after some food and water. Shame on them for doing so. The exit had a big metal gate slowly lowering as she ran towards it. She picked up the pace, uruks closing in on her and reaching to grab at her. She was glad her hair was tied up or they'd be able to snag their wretched fingers in it and stop her in her tracks. She was almost there when she felt her whole-body jolt to a stop as an uruk grabbed her by the back of her tunic, choking her as he yanked her into him. He hooked his arms under hers and held her against him while the others swarmed, eyes greedy and full of malice.

"You're in for it now, tark sow!" One chortled with glee, going to grab at her tunic to tear it down and expose her. Eadrith kicked him in the face and chest, not quite able to nock him back. He roared at her and grabbed her legs, spreading them open so he could lean in close to her face.

"I'll break them if I have to, then we'll see how well you struggle…"

Eadrith didn't want to hear his vulgar threats. She swung her arm across, quill in hand, and stabbed the uruk holding her in the side of his head, right near his eyes. He howled and dropped her. The sudden lack of leverage caused the other uruk to drop Eadrith's legs and fall forward. Eadrith didn't waste the opportunity as the uruk threatened to fall on her. She tucked her legs up and pressed them against his chest, using his forward momentum and all her strength to push him up and over her head. He landed on his neck and she heard and sharp snap.

As triumphant as she felt she had to escape before she could savour it. She bolted for the gate again and crashed into it as it reached the ground. She couldn't fit through these bars. She turned, her back pressed against the gate as uruks closed in on her. Some angry, some amused, some baring very disturbing expressions, all monstrous. She didn't know what to do. There were too many. She carried herself on instinct alone and made a run for it, trying to shake of the grabbing claws. One tore her tunic at the sleeve, another causing her to stagger but she kept running back towards the tower. She had no way to escape but maybe she could barricade herself inside, or perhaps just run to the top floor and throw herself off the balcony. She would not be defiled and mutilated by these creatures.

She ran inside, didn't even try to shut the door it was far too heavy, and ran up the stairs. The guards from before had left the tower already so the path was clear, and the uruk in her room was still trapped. Her legs tired as she ran up the stairs, and she fumbled a few times. The uruks were still at the bottom of the stairs but hot on her heels, nevertheless. They knew there was nowhere for her to go once she reached the top. Tears streamed down Eadrith's face. She was going to die in a few minutes, plummeting towards the ground. She swore she would not scream as she fell, go out with grace and her head held high. She'd never see her family again, never see home again. She'd never know love or the touch of someone who cared for you with all their heart. But at least there would be dignity.

She reached the top of the tower, a large bedroom, probably Auzzarg's, but she didn't ponder over the décor. She sprinted for the baloney, no banisters around it as Overlord's used it to address their armies. She drew closer and closer, closed her eyes and flung herself forward off the edge.

She felt a strong arm around her waist, and in an instant, she was pulled back and around, into a warm, strong chest and away from certain death. Her eyes were still closed, tears still flowing in silence. Her throat seemed blocked and she couldn't breathe for a moment. She had accepted her fate and now it was suddenly changed. The block cleared and she felt a sob begging for furuke itself up to her mouth, but she refused to let it out, as hopeless as the situation was. They had her. They'd captured her again. She was surely to be punished for this, gravely. Hard to hold her head up high for that.

"You're really something." A deep and gravelled voice with a soft chuckle, and Eadrith looked up to see it was Auzzarg holding her, stopped her from throwing herself to her death. He had a smirk on his face, not a malicious one but one of genuine surprise and… amusement?

Eadrith sat on the bench at the foot of the Overlord's bed, her body quivering as Auzzarg gave new commands to her solders who had finally made it up the stairs. Needless to say, they wanted her dead but after some threats of his own, Auzzarg convinced them she was more valuable alive and they went back to their posts. That was of course after Auzzarg crushed one of the uruks skulls against the wall, smearing it with blood and letting the corpse roll down the stairs to make his point clear. The crunching sound of skull and the squelch of brain and blood made Eadrith feel nauseous. As the door shut and it was just the two of them in the tower, the air became heavy with silence.

Auzzarg walked across the room and stood in the archway to the balcony, probably to dissuade any more ideas of suicide.

"So, what is your name human?" He asked casually, as if they were having a casual conversation and she was not his prisoner. Eadrith didn't answer straight away, pursing her lips and wringing her hands together. She was so unsure of her fate she did not have the strength to make polite conversation. Auzzarg, whom she was sure would become suddenly enraged by her lack of cooperation judging by his sudden outbursts of rage, sighed and walked a little closer to her. His steps were light for his size, not a stomp but gentle and non-threatening. He stood a few feet away from her and crossed his arms, but it was not in intimidation, his shoulders were relaxed, and his weight was more to one side.

"I can't keep stating that you are an asset without knowing who you are." He explained, his voice soft. "Those stupid grunts will get more and more bold if I can't present the exact reason, we're keeping you alive and _intact._" He pondered on the last word, stating it as eloquently as he could. She knew what he meant by it. Eadrith glanced over at him. He was not threatening her, although he was a very imposing figure. He was built like tank, rippling muscles across him, broad shoulders and defined abs. He had black hair on his chest that trickled to a fine trail down his stomach and disappeared into the hem of his pants. The black tattoos seemed slick and inky against his dusky skin, as if they had been freshly painted on with oil. His expression was soft, but his features were sharp and well defined, a rigid brow, razor sharp jaw, and protruding blunt fangs from his lower jaw over his lips. His eyes looked tired though, lined underneath and grey. He was not a threat to her, she concluded, not currently, but that didn't make him any less dangerous. She had to be weary.

Swallowing a lump of courage Eadrith raised her head up and straightened her back.

"Eadrith." She said clearly, speaking like the noble lady she was when all she wanted to do was spit and curse.

"Eadrith." Auzzarg said slowly, seeming to savour each syllable. He tilted his head to the side slightly. "And who might Eadrith be?"

"Daughter of Commander Herugrim of Gondor and Cynewyn of Rohan, sister to Captain Erkengar of Gondor. I am addressed as Lady Eadrith in the courts."

Stating her father and brothers' names and titles was risky, but it did give her value and indeed make her a bargaining chip. That was enough to secure her safety for now, all be it perhaps put her in danger in the future.

Auzzarg smirked and nodded his head, looking down at the ground as he tapped his foot. It was a mannerism she'd also seen her father do to contain an outburst of frustration, usually with her mother. Was Auzzarg trying to contain his frustration? He looked up and smirked, chewed on his bottom lip, and exhaled sharply.

"Lady Eadrith would have been enough." He said with a knowing grin. "But thankyou for the details, now I needn't do my own research." He turned and walked over to his wooden desk, dipped his quill in the ink and hunched over as he wrote something down on a piece of parchment. Her name? Eadrith was amazed he could read and write, she thought uruks illiterate.

There was silence while he wrote, the only sound the slight scratching on the parchment. The silence weighed heavy on Eadrith and made her uncomfortable. She wanted to escape, she wanted to be free. This uncertainty and unexpected civility from the Overlord only made her more uncomfortable.

"What will become of me?" She asked quickly, interrupting Auzzarg's flow of thought it seemed as he abruptly stopped writing.

"You will stay here for now, until I figure out how to gain something for your safe return to Gondor." He explained, and quickly returned to writing. Eadrith scanned the room for something she could use as a weapon, she was not staying, it was too dangerous, especially now she'd pissed off the uruks trying to escape again. There was nothing in the Overlord's bedroom she could realistically use, everything was too big or not suitable.

Auzzarg finished writing and put the quill down, leaving the parchment open on the desk. He walked over to his armour stand where that formidable chest plate and drake pauldrons sat dwarfing the human shaped mannequin. He equipped it, donned his grieves, gauntlets and strode over to the edge of the bed where he reached across. Mounted above his bed was what Eadrith assumed to be a trophy but it was in fact a helmet, a metal rams' skull with bone horns. He didn't put it on before striding past Eadrith towards the door, seemingly about to leave. Eadrith hopped to her feet, confused.

"I'm raiding a camp tonight, one of my captains is plotting a coo and I plan on shutting it down." He explained, opening the door but not leaving quite yet. "You can stay in here tonight; I'll lock the door from the outside and only I have a key. Don't throw yourself off the balcony while I'm gone, okay?"

He donned his helmet; a formidable sight. He was an imposing figure that seemed to draw all the darkness in the room towards him. The traitorous Captain was in for real terror before he died. He picked up the shield and spiked mace leaning against the wall by the door. He turned to go but before he left, he glanced over at Eadrith one last time.

"Oh and try not to escape again. I won't be here to save you." He warned, a knowing warning laced with what could only be concern. Why would he care? She was a bargaining chip, yet, he was keeping her in his own bedroom behind a locked door for her own protection it seemed instead of back in her prison cell of a room, or an actual prison cell. It was strange and made Eadrith feel uncomfortable and confused.

The door shut behind Auzzarg and Eadrith looked around the room. There had to be something she could use as a weapon, it was a _Overlord_'s room after all. A quick search turned up no protection, not inside the empty wardrobe, or in the empty bedside draws, not in any of the empty desk draws or under the rug. The balcony was no longer tempting as all the adrenaline that had given her the courage to kill herself had faded, and now she could only teeter on the edge and tremble with hesitation. It was dark outside now, almost completely night as stars began to appear in the sky. It was quite tranquil, only interrupted by the general noise coming from the fortress. She peered down and watched what she concluded to be Auzzarg's raiding party heading out through the fortress grounds. She watched them leave through the big gates and they disappeared into the darkness.

Eadrith pondered on Auzzarg for a moment as she walked back inside, the cold desert air cutting through her. He was an uruk Overlord, yet he could read and write and, while capable of great violence and aggression, seemed capable of great restrain and civility, perhaps more than some human men she knew of. She'd know aggression before, from a potential suiter her father introduced to her. On an unaccompanied walk around the royal gardens in Gondor, once in a blind spot, the supposed noble suitor pushed her against the wall and kissed her. It was not a nice kiss, quite a disgusting one, and his hands ran across her as he tried to lift her skirt. She'd scratched his face and he'd slapped her. The slap alerted guards to the situation and they arrived before the suitor could do anything more. He was escorted away but never charged with anything, too important her father said when she'd demanded he be publicly humiliated for what he did. Eadrith was just a lowly woman though, so no one wanted to see an esteemed member of the court's name dragged through the mud for a mere woman.

Peering at the parchment in the dim light Eadrith found she couldn't read it so she picked it up and held it near candle light. Then she realised she couldn't read it because it was written in Elvish. An uruk who could write in elvish. She'd never heard such an inconceivable thing. Uruks were supposed to be mindless cannon fodder for Sauron, an army of easily replaced soldiers made to kill and nothing more. They weren't supposed to be able to read and write at all, let alone in elvish. She put the parchment down, feeling defeated and very confused. Then again, uruks were supposed to kill and torture their prisoners, not use them as bargaining chips, that was far too complex. This Auzzarg was very unorthodox, and very intriguing.

Deciding she was tired, Eadrith perched on the edge of the bed. It was made up and untouched, seemingly for a while. Did Auzzarg not sleep? As uncomfortable as the idea of sleeping in an uruk's bed was, it was a very comfortable bed and she found herself sliding under the sheets and tucked her arms under the pillow to rest her head. She felt something cold and hard under the pillow and produced a dagger. She grinned. Finally, something she could use. Her grin was short lived however, as she drifted off into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Auzzarg's caragor; Bone Licker, was especially twitchy as they road out towards the traitor's camp. His ears twitched for every slight sound and he seemed to be on high alert. Auzzarg patted the side of the caragor's neck to comfort him, rustling the thick furr.

"What's up with you?" He asked, half expecting the beast to give a full explanation. Instead he got a groan followed by silence.

"You're anxious. He can feel it." Sarbaul Cat Tamer announced, his spear thrower Warchief riding on the caragor to his left answered in the beast's stead. Sarbaul was his blood brother, his kin, born from the same vat, and the only uruk Auzzarg trusted with his life. He was a fine warrior, but beasts were his specialty.

"Is it the tark on your mind?" Sarbaul asked when Auzzarg gave no response.

"The human is reckless and daring, all of her escape plans seem to consist of run for the hills." Auzzarg vented, quite surprised at how much concern he had for the human. "She's too hot headed to be left alone."

"Sounds like you in your younger years." Sarbaul laughed, garnering a smirk of nostalgia from Auzzarg. "I understand your concern, we uruk's do love a good chase. What did you do with her?"

"Locked her in my room, told no one she was there." He calmly and quietly confessed. He didn't mind so much if his other riders knew about it but he didn't like the idea of his bartering chip being used as leverage against him. Not that he cared for the human in anyway, he just found her inextinguishable spirit rather intriguing. The other uruks wouldn't understand that.

"She's not going to try and throw herself of the balcony, again is she?" Sarbaul queried.

"I don't think so. She seemed pretty terrified once I stopped her the first time. I don't think she'll have the stones to do it again." He hoped. He might come back and find her splattered on the ground at the base of the tower.

"You sure she wasn't just terrified of you?" Sarbaul suggested, raising a brow. Auzzarg contemplated the idea. He was pretty terrifying; it was one of his redeeming qualities. However, she hadn't seemed particularly terrified in his presence, more uncertain and cautious, which was to be expected. She was strong willed for a human, and a feisty one too.

Auzzarg chewed his bottom lip and then shook the topic from his mind.

"Tell me about this traitor again, Raurgot was it?" Auzzarg said quickly, switching topics. Sarbaul got the hint.

"Raurgot the unkillable, although many have tried. He fancies himself immortal and that has only bolstered his idiotic notion that _he_ should be Overlord." Sarbaul described. Auzzarg smirked, it sounded typical for an uruk traitor.

"And is he _immortal_?" Auzzarg humoured. While it was true uruks were hard to kill, cleaving their head off seemed to do the trick; most of the time at least.

"Your spies seem to think he's just lucky. That and he's the weakest captain with the smallest battalion. Cocky uruks go for bigger targets and bigger rewards, Raurgot isn't worth the effort and the ones who do try are less than pathetic."

"Sounds about right." Auzzarg sighed. "Shame. I wanted a fight."

"Careful what you wish for boss." Sarbaul warned, eyeing the other riders.

They turned a corner and began down a path lined with the high canyon cliffs, two caragor riders taking each side and following above in case of ambush. Sarbaul stayed along side Auzzarg so it was just the two of them and their caragors in the canyon.

"You know there is word going around the fortress," Sarbaul began, speaking low so the others didn't know they were being excluded from a conversation. "that you're keeping the tark as your… _Miukavreukuk_."

Auzzarg burst out with laughter which he muffled by biting on his fist so not to draw the attention of any scouts in the area. This was a covert operation after all. Once he settled himself down to a slight chuckle, he gave a firm shake of the head.

"No, I regret to inform you I had no such ideas." He assured Sarbaul, who looked a little miffed that Auzzarg wasn't being serious. "She's a bargaining chip, nothing more, even if she is currently asleep in my bed."

Sarbaul shook his head and a quite '_tsk tsk tsk_' left his lips. Auzzarg frowned.

"What?" He asked sharply. Insubordination provoked him, and while Sarbaul could get away with that sometimes he was pushing the limit with the disapproval. Sarbaul caught that he was in trouble and sighed heavily, as if Auzzarg's temper was exasperating.

"I only mean that you my blood brother, can be terribly sentimental." He confessed, and Auzzarg felt his blood start to boil. Blood brother or not he was not about to be insulted by his subordinate. Still, he was his blood brother, so he'd let the uruk explain himself before maiming him.

"No one else heard me, your reputation is intact, and your soppy secrets are safe with me." Sarbal reassured, but he did move his caragor a little further away from Auzzarg's striking range. "Don't forget, I covered for you when our old captain found you hiding an abandoned caragor pup in the camp."

Auzzarg remembered that day. He'd found a small caragor pup lost in the desert on a scouting mission. It was weak, malnourished, and covered in scratches and tiny bitemarks. The runt of the litter kicked out by its mother and siblings to die in the wastes. Auzzarg, just a lowly grunt for some captain at the time, took pity on the creature and returned to camp with it. Like uruks, the weak were encouraged to die, and this caragor would meet the same fate if anyone found out about it, so Auzzarg kept it hidden away. When his captain found out about it Auzzarg was not as quick thinking as he needed to be. However, Sarbaul was and quickly explained they planned on using the pup as bait to lure a mother caragor fat with milk for meat and fur. Whether or not the plan would have worked they didn't know, but Auzzarg was able to raise the pup in secret until it was large enough for him to ride into camp and rip off the Captain's head with its jaws.

Auzzarg patted the side of Bone Lickers neck as the beast gave a low grunt, as if he knew Auzzarg was being… sentimental.

"Okay fine. I'm sentimental." Auzzarg yielded. "Leave it at that and don't speak of it ever again." His tone was sharp but Sarbaul knew he was off the hook and rode up back alongside as the others re-joined them and the canyon became flat desert again. Before them, flickering with lights against black stone ruins was the camp.

"How many of his men are loyal to him, truly I mean?" Auzzarg asked, cracking his neck in preparation.

"All of them, he's convinced them he'll make them all captains when he's in charge." Sarbaul scoffed. Stupider than average uruks for a stupider than average captain, but that didn't mean they would be any less formidable.

"How do you want to approach this?" Sarbaul asked, taking a spear in hand.

"Head on." Auzzarg announced, drawing his mace. "I did say I wanted to have some fun."

The battle was bloody, long, and glorious. It was rare that Auzzarg got to fight against hordes of enemies at once, but when it did happen, he was in his element. He sliced many an uruk's head clean off, but that was no fun. He preferred to slice half of their head off, watch as their shocked expression divided in two and their eyes slid away from their nose. He sliced limbs with precision, leaving an ashamed uruk to crawl on his belly for safety before bleeding out.

He'd thrown a spear through the back of an uruk's head, through and out of his mouth, even impaled one to the wall by the throat. He'd ignited barrels of grog that exploded with a roar of flames, incinerating the uruks around it, melting the skin off their bones. Bone-Licker tore limbs from the uruk it pounced on, muffling their screams as it crushed their skulls between its mighty jaws.

His shield bashed enemies to the ground for him to club with his mace, blood and guts sticking to the spikes to be smashed against the next poor sod who dare attack him. This was his purpose. This was what he lived for. The glory and carnage of war, the screams of the defeated and the sweet scent of blood in the air as the dust settled and he, the victor, stood triumphant.

When the battle was done and the camp lay scattered with bodies, blood staining the sand black. A few stragglers begged for mercy. What was mercy to an uruk Overlord savouring a bloody victory. Sarbaul put a quick end to their pleas, too much mercy for Auzzarg's liking. He craved more, more violence, more war, more blood. He had one uruk left to brutalize however, the captain himself whom had been hiding the entire fight like the pathetic weakling he was. One of Auzzarg's men dragged him out from his hole by his leg, the uruk screaming and wailing about. Auzzarg wanted to bring his mace down upon the squealing craven until his head was nothing but a fine paste to be lapped up by hungry caragors. However, he needed to strategize. This uruk had planned to overthrow him, even had the support of a hundred or so uruks to do so. He needed to send a message to other captains who might consider themselves suitable candidates for usurpation.

Auzzarg strode over to the snivelling Raurgot and yanked him to his knees by the hair. His men had stripped the coward of his armour and weapons, leaving Raurgot naked and bruised. Bone-Licker growled and licked his lips. Raurgot was bony. Bone-Licker liked bones.

"Easy boy, you'll have your prize soon enough." Auzzarg cooed, but his expression was far from sweet. He new he had the blood crazed look in his eyes, a slight red glint on amber igniting fear in those facing him. He'd started now, there was no stopping him.

"You, Raurgot, are a snivelling shit eating maggot who crossed a line." Auzzarg explained, clutching Raurgot's hair tighter so it pulled at the uruk's scalp.

"I'm sorry, oh great Overlord. Please, I was stupid to ever think I could match your greatness, I…"

"Save your flattery for someone not about to rip your eyes out and shove them so far up your ass you'll be able to see how full of shit you are."

Auzzarg tossed Raurgot aside. The pathetic sod crawled onto his knees and begged some more. Auzzarg hated begging, it was weakness and subjugation. Even the most lowly of uruk pulled from the most rancid vats shouldn't beg for his life but hold his head high for the killing blow.

Auzzarg pondered for a moment on all the ways he could kill this uruk in the most gruesome fashion while Raurgot begged for his life. Auzzarg wanted to make an example of him, a warning to the other Captains _and_ his Warchiefs that he was not to be trifled with, and if anyone dared, they had better win or suffer a horrible fate. He knew hundreds of torture methods, but he didn't want Raurgot left alive long enough for torture to pay off. Besides, he had no information to share that was worth Auzzarg's time.

"Tie him to my caragor." Auzzarg instructed. "We'll take him back to the fortress. I have an idea in mind."

Auzzarg and his men road back to the fortress at a fast pace, dragging the screaming Raurgot behind them, his wriggling body bashing into every rock and tree they passed. When the troop arrived back to the fortress, they paraded the bloody and broken Raurgot through the streets as Auzzarg's loyal uruks cheered, grog in hand, at their Overlords victory and the subsequent display.

In the centre of the fortress was a stage for executions but Auzzarg rode straight past it, much to the dismay and confusion of his celebrating army.

"Oh no." He announced to the crowd that were beginning to protest. "I have something much better in mind." He waved for them to follow and the horde of intrigued uruks followed the procession up to the tower entrance. Auzzarg instructed his men to bring him four caragor juveniles as well as binders and rope. He stood Raurgot in the centre of the courtyard, at the bottom of the steps leading up to the tower doors. His uruks gathered around, jeering and insulting Raurgot and his manhood, the size of which was too easily hidden by his hands as he stood quivering.

Once Auzzarg had what he demanded and scanned the crowd. He could see the tattooed symbols or signature weapon of choice for uruks belonging to different captains and other Overlords. Good, they'd pass the message on to their masters. With a grin he clipped the binders to Raurgot's arms and legs, tied the rope to the binds and handed one each to his men. They tied the rope tightly to a harness on each caragor and mounted them to keep them in place. Auzzarg laughed at Raurgot's confusion and turned to his cheering army.

"All who dare challenge me, know that this and much worse will be your fate!" He roared, and the uruk's cheered, the idiots not even knowing what was about to happen but excited by it all the same.

The riders moved their caragors slowly so the rope attaching them to Raurgot's limbs was tightened. It knocked Raurgot off his feet and he fell onto his back, clonking his head on the stone as his arms and legs spread wide. He frantically looking around, the concussion adding more panic to his confusion. He was beginning to get the jist of what was going to happen, so did the uruks. They cheered unbelievable roars of excitement. This was real treat for them, and Auzzarg knew with each gruesome execution his cemented their loyalty. Uruks followed a strong leader who could not be killed, but one that brought them entertainment was worth dying for.

"On my signal." Auzzarg announced, holding his hand high. He hesitated, not for mercy but for suspense. The anticipation was killing the crowd who were almost begging for him to give the order. This was the only type of begging he approved of. He looking about the horde as if to say; "Shall I do it? When? Now?"

He slid his teeth across his bottom lip, scraping skin, and thrust his hand down to be met by ecstatic cheers. The riders dug their heels into the caragor's flanks to make them move and the beasts began to pull.

They were juveniles so they were not as strong as mature caragors, which was the whole point. Auzzarg didn't want the limbs being torn off, he wanted them dislocated, torn and stretched until the flesh slowly separated from the helpless body. Raurgot screamed as his arms and legs were stretched, and Auzzarg could hear the pop of each limb, one at a time. The crowd cheered with each _pop_ and then the muscles and flesh began to tear. Raurgot howled like he was possessed, the excruciating pain sending him made as he shook his head. He let out a guttural scream and two of the stronger of the four prevailed in their task, yanking the uruks left arm and right leg from his body. The severed limbs lightened the now whimpering corpse and made the task easier for the other two, who promptly yanked the remaining limbs clean off. The dismembered uruk wasn't dead yet however, the only way to kill an uruk was to severe his head.

Auzzarg grabbed the broken Raurgot by the hair and held him up to the crowed. As the limbs had been _torn_ off Auzzarg found it preferable to do the same to the traitor's head. He stuck his fingers in the uruk's mouth and pulled upwards while pushing down on the collarbone. It took force separating the head but as Raurgot the Unkillable gave a final screech he yanked the head from the jawbone and held it high, receiving rapturous celebration and blood lust from his army. There would be some more carnage that night, he surmised, of his own men slaughtering each other to vent their crazed lust for violence. That was fine, remove the weaklings so Auzzarg didn't have to.

He tossed the head to the wayside and turned to head inside the tower. Sarbaul met him at the door.

"Display his body at the front gates, artistically if you will." He instructed. Sarbaul gave him a small bow but before Auzzarg went inside his blood brother put a hand on his shoulder to stop him a moment.

"Before you head upstairs to where you left a tark noble female helpless and asleep in your bed, you might want to seem less '_bloodthirsty_' in your expression." Sarbaul suggested. Good advice, although Auzzarg predicted Eadrith should be asleep at that time, even with all the racket his army made watching the show.

Once inside Auzzarg removed his bloodied armour and left it in the main keep along with his mace and shield, heading up the tower in just his pants. His armour looked great and did its job better than something made by uruks should, but it was not the more comfortable thing to wear or climb stairs with for that matter. He stretched and flexed his arms on the way up, the satisfying clicks relaxing him as he loosened up. Bloodlust did make him ever so tense.

Once at his room he hesitated and instead pressed his ear to the wooden door. He could hear snoring inside, loud, rather guttural snoring. He felt a small pang of panic. Had someone gone in and attacked Eadrith, hurt or killed his prisoner and now thought himself a king sleeping in the Overlords bed. Auzzarg jammed the key in the lock, twisted harshly and burst in, the door swinging around and slamming against the wall.

He found no intruder, usurper, or any uruk for that matter. Sprawled out on the bed and snoring like a graug was Eadrith, her blonde hair half undone and her hand under the pillow. She didn't so much as flinch at Auzzarg's arrival. A very deep sleeper. He chuckled at the irony and quietly closed the door so not to risk waking her. He walked over to his desk to continue his message to Sauron but halfway across the room he turned and crept over to the bed. He could see Eadrith was drooling slightly, but her face was still serene. He carefully pulled a few strands of hair to untie the braids and it fell in waves across her. He watched her sleep for a moment. Her tunic had rode up a little, showing the small of her back and two little dimples on flawless ivory skin. He wondered what it might be like to run his fingers up the crease in her back, up to her neck and inside that golden hair, warm he bet. He was curious as to what it smelt like, and then caught himself as he was halfway bent over. He straightened himself and took a few steps away, then over to his desk to work, gnawing on his bottom lip like his life depended on it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Eadrith lazily woke and sat up in bed, her hair hanging down over her face as she rubbed her eyes. She still felt exhausted, how long as she been asleep? The room was bright so it had to be past morning, her mother would kill her for being late to court. Then, the events of the last few days reminded Eadrith that she was not at home in her own bed but in the Lithlad fortress, and she had slept so very soundly in the bed of the uruk Overlord, Auzzarg the Cursed.

"Finally awake." A familiar, gravelly voice lauded as Eadrith flicked her hair back so she could see properly. Auzzarg was sitting at his desk reading from a stack of letters, looking quite strange as the scholarly position did not suit an uruk's shape. He did not turn as he spoke, nor did he so much as flinch when Eadrith slid her hand back under the pillow for the dagger. She was not the most alert first thing in the morning, so she wasn't taking chances, especially around an uruk. She had to be ready to defend herself.

"Would you mind leaving the dagger under the pillow." Auzzarg asked politely. "It's there for assassination attempts." Eadrith ignored him and took it out anyway.

Auzzarg seemed very intent on reading his letters so Eadrith slipped out of the bed and stalked over to the door. She placed her hand on the handle and ever so carefully pushed. To her surprise it was unlocked, and she was able to open it wide. Her eyes lit up with hope. She could escape!

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Auzzarg warned before Eadrith could take a step. Eadrith looked at him and frowned as he still hadn't turned to look at her, even as he knew she was trying to escape again.

"Why?" She asked indignantly, surprisingly bold for first thing in the morning. Perhaps she wasn't quite awake enough to gauge her tone with whom she spoke. Auzzarg gave a half-hearted laugh and shook his head.

"You can if you want but I don't like your chances down there. And I'm very busy with Overlord stuff so I'm afraid I won't be able to spring to your rescue." He warned, still not looking up from his letters. Somehow that annoyed Eadrith more than the imprisonment stuff.

"You call that a rescue?" She scoffed, slamming the door shut and stalking across the room to the balcony. She crossed her arms tight over her chest and huffed as she looked out across Lithlad's canyon desert. The sun was already high and beaming down hot fire. Her skin tingling as it cooked in the direct sunlight. She was from Gondor, the weather there was certainly dry but never hot, this place was about as far removed from home as possible, as was she.

"I was liberating myself from imprisonment." She announced when she heard Auzzarg finally leave his desk.

"_Liberating yourself from imprisonment', _is that what you humans call suicide?" Auzzarg mocked, strolling up to the baloney archway and leaning against the wall. Eadrith kept her back to him, now a little more awake she felt the slightest sense of intimidation, but not as much as the night before. Uruk's were awful creatures, but she had been fast asleep, and he hadn't so much as touched her, it was unlikely he'd try anything while she was awake and holding a knife. At least, a human wouldn't, not that uruks were remotely close to humans.

"It is called dying with dignity." Eadrith sneered. "Better to die with your head held high than whimpering or begging for death to take you after being tortured and mutilated." Auzzarg scoffed at Eadrith's words and she whipped her head around to glare at him. He composed himself and then sauntered towards Eadrith with a grin on his face. It wasn't a malicious grin, more of a cheeky smirk one might wear when finding bemusement in another's frustration. He stood next to Eadrith and looked out over Lithlad, crossing his arms as well but relaxed and comfortable, unlike Eadrith's tight shoulders and stiff limbs. Eadrith moved a little away from him, lowered arms and gripped the knife, keeping her eyes on him to be ready for anything. Auzzarg didn't look at her at all, just watched the dust roll over the desert and the odd bird flap across the empty blue sky.

She examined him for a moment. His profile was not the nicest as uruk noses were flat and pointed downward, and his underbite certainly didn't help, nor did the fangs. His lips were chewed on something chronic, and the dry desert air wouldn't do him any favours. His skin was covered in scars and scratches she hadn't had chance to observe before, some deep like stab wounds, others claw marks. He had claw marks over his shoulders and one on each shoulder blade, as if he had been picked up by a giant eagle or something. The tattoos she initially thought were random smears now appeared to follow a pattern and take shape, uruk symbols she theorized, as blotchy and primitive as their hosts. But Auzzarg wasn't blotchy or primitive, he wasn't some mindless warmonger determined to bring the kingdoms of men to their knees. He was intelligent, for an uruk, could read and write, charismatic in his own way, and not in the typical '_obey me or die_' uruk way she'd heard about. He was nothing like what she'd heard about or seen for that matter. An enigma, but no less dangerous. He was still an uruk.

"I dunno." He said, breaking Eadrith's concentration. She looked up and made eye contact with him, the first time since she bumped into and subsequently stabbed him when she tried to escape the camp. His eyes were not the yellowish brown she initially saw them to be, but a rich amber, like a warm flame. Auzzarg smiled as he spoke, a gentle smile.

"Pretty hard to hold your head high when you're plummeting downwards."

Eadrith tentatively followed Auzzarg down the stairs of the tower, keeping her distance but staying close enough so if she tripped, she would fall into his seemingly immovable frame, that or he could soften her fall down the stairs. Auzzarg needed her out of his room for a bit, but when they passed the tower room Eadrith had previously occupied, she became confused and slightly concerned.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked, slowing her pace with suspicion. Auzzarg continued as normal.

"I can't keep you in my room while _I_ sleep because you'll probably try to murder me." He explained, being rather cavalier. Eadrith conceded that was most likely what she'd try to do. She would still try it now he had his back to her, vulnerable, exposed, but he had taken the dagger from her.

"So," Auzzarg continued. "I need to keep you safe and occupied, so I'm leaving you in the care of my most trusted Warchief."

Eadrith stopped in her tracks and looked at Auzzarg with horror when he turned around.

"You are not leaving me in some uruk's charge." Eadrith exclaimed, mortified at the idea. She'd grown somewhat used to Auzzarg's presence in the few brief interactions she'd had with him, he was an enigma, an unorthodox uruk, but this Warchief was a completely different matter.

"_I'm_ some uruk." Auzzarg reminded, taking a few steps up to stand on the one below Eadrith's. Even then he was taller than her.

"Yes, but I've grown to _tolerate _you. You're different to the others I've met." Eadrith confessed, embarrassed that Auzzarg's proximity was making her cheeks warm.

"Different how?" He queried, tilting his head to the side and giving his lips are harsh nip. Eadrith noticed it was hard enough to draw blood.

"You just are." She sputtered. "I've never heard of an uruk reading a writing, especially not elvish."

"Nosy." Auzzarg marvelled. "Tell me, what _have _you heard. About uruks I mean."

"Well…" Eadrith began, scratching at her palm with her thumb nail. She hesitated, Auzzarg leant in a little, intrigued with what she had to say.

"They are bred from the heats and slimes of the earth, wriggling their way to the surface like maggots. Vicious abominations, monstrous beasts that impose their will with brute force; hate beautiful things, will not admit to any fears, revel in slaughter, and enslave any who stand in their path." Eadrith quoted, she heard the description many times, popular to tell naughty children about so they behaved. But this one, standing mere inches away from her, was not a bedtime story. This one was real, and this one was her captor.

Eadrith felt her heart thud deep in her chest, a gallop, as was her breath. Her chest rose with each rapid and deep inhale as the silence lay heavy in the air. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the corner of Auzzarg's lips slide into a smile, flashing teeth and fangs.

"Oh, I'm afraid you're sorely mistake." He explained calmly, still smiling, even wider somehow. Then he lowered his voice to almost a whisper and leant closer to Eadrith could hear him. He was right by her ear, his warm breath on her neck.

"I am all that and more." He whispered, then turned and continued down the stairs.

Eadrith caught her breath and steadied herself, she found her limbs trembling. He was trying to intimidate her, bully her into submission. She would not let him succeed; she would not show fear. Eadrith lifter her head up and continued down the stairs. It was only when they came out into courtyard and Eadrith shielded her eyes from the sunlight that she realised there was blood on the palm of her hand.

Auzzarg watched his men closely as he led Eadrith across the courtyard and to the caragor cages. The uruks in the courtyard eyed him with suspicion and jealousy, and eyed Eadrith with something sinister in mind. He knew what they wanted to do, and it would only worsen the longer she was around them. A living human in the fortress, not subjugated into slavery or _used for fun_, was a problem to them, especially if it was pretty, and Eadrith was very pretty. He didn't really want her outside his safe and secure room in the tower, for her own safety as well as his own amusement. She was very entertaining and feistier by the day, her indignation towards him a charming change from what he was used to. He couldn't have her act like that around his men however, just as Sarbaul discuss his concerns in private and not in front of other Warchiefs.

He had initially planned for intimidation in the stairwell, put her in her place, but when he stepped close to her and saw her head held high, defiant and bold in front of the most dangerous uruk in Mordor, his threat came across as something else. He wasn't entirely sure if he minded. Auzzarg glanced at Eadrith who was walking beside him. She was watching his men too, seemingly terrified of them. She should be, they almost had her the last time she was in the courtyard, and if left to their own devices… Why didn't she look at him like that? He was more dangerous than all of them combined.

"When I asked for help that is not what I meant." Sarbaul yelled from the furthest caragor cage as they arrived, cutting through Auzzarg's thoughts. It was only then he realised he was staring at Eadrith, gnawing on his lip again. He snapped his attention to Sarbaul who was feeding a dead uruk to the largest and most vicious caragor they had.

"I looked at the numbers, we can't afford it." He teased. "But I can offer you indentured servitude." Eadrith looked alarmed and righteously annoyed at that and didn't hide it in her expression. Her ease at expressing negative emotions towards Auzzarg in public was worrysome, but at least it was just him and Sarbaul around. Sarbaul frowned and then looked at him, but Auzzarg pretended not to notice.

Unlike other fortresses Auzzarg liked to keep his caragors close to the tower. They were the only uruks who bred their own caragors instead of capturing and subjugating wild ones. Other Overlords considered this to make the caragors weaker, no primal drive, but Auzzarg knew this made them loyal, a loyalty that couldn't be dominated.

"She's no used to me, you know that?" Sarbaul grumbled, visibly annoyed.

"What!" Eadrith squeaked. "I'm not going anywhere near those things. I'm a Lady of the Court, not a stable hand."

"You'll lose your hand if you keep that attitude up." Sarbaul muttered under his breath.

Auzzarg shrugged and spun on his heel to leave.

"You can't leave me with him!" Eadrith exclaimed, and he swore he heard her stamp her foot like an indignant child. Auzzarg ignored her protest, which was very entertaining to listen to, and continued back to the tower.

Once back in his room Auzzarg collapsed onto the bed. It hadn't been touched since Eadrith got out of it a few minutes ago. It was still somewhat warm. He buried his face in the pillow and could faintly smell her. Uruks had superb senses. She smelt like the dirt from the camp she had been in, a bit of sweat since she hadn't washed in a while. It was quite delightful. Auzzarg stopped himself and flipped the pillow over. No, she was his bargaining chip, a tool to be used to gain some land or resources, nothing more. He couldn't dwell on it any longer as the three days of sleep deprivation caught up with him and he faded into the darkness.


End file.
